


The Morning After

by dalarenzo



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: All Human, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 01:53:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5609425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dalarenzo/pseuds/dalarenzo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A spectacular one night stands bleeds over into the morning after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Morning After

Alaric wakes alone and he's not overly surprised even though his heart aches a little as he stretches his hand out across his bed and feels the cool sheets against his fingers.

Lorenzo. Enzo.... Something. One night stand enough that Alaric can't remember if last names where even given but he can remember the exact color of brown the mans eyes where. Remembers quiet vividly the sweet sound of ecstasy the man had made as he'd come thick white ropes across his taunt belly.

Yeh. That's a detail he'd rather never forget even if he never sees the guy again.

Also remembers something lost and hazy, the hint of him curling against Alaric in his sleep. Tender and fragile and seeking comforts but that can't be true so Alaric counts it as figment and nothing more. Instead focusing on the warm memories of the Brits thick accent and smokey smell.

If he really is British? Alaric isn't even sure what his occupation is or where to find him other then the fact that he'd been at the bar just up the block fro Ric's new condo. Wild and drunk and they'd bonded over bourbon first and later over the back of Alaric's couch and then again here in his bed...

Isobel would be happy, look, I can have worthless one night stands too.

At least his hangover isn't too bad, not quite to the levels of self decapitation and easily something fresh coffee should fix. His mouth goes dry at that and he sits up with little fines, lazily pulls on last nights jeans piled at the foot of the bed because the people across the alley don't need to see that much of their new neighbor quite yet.

He knows the coffee machine is unpacked because it was one of the first things out of the boxes yesterday before he'd rewarded his good job moving with a trip to the bar and his first one night stand as a divorced man. Maybe moving to the city really has been the best thing to happen to him. He only takes a second to make a pit stop in the bathroom, tries not to check himself in the mirrors reflection but fails. Tired eyes, fuck messed hair, maturely sticks his tongue out at himself.

The kitchen isn't empty though, and now that he's standing in the open entryway between it and his small living room he can smell the already brewing fresh coffee. Wonders how he'd missed that heavenly scent before.

Enzo's sitting /on/ the table, back to Alaric, eating cereal from a Tupperware container, open box next to him and gallon of milk waiting by the gurgling coffee maker. Bare feet with perfect bare toes swinging back to bump the heel of each foot in a two one rhythm against the leg of the table.

Alaric fallows the path of his spine down to where Enzo's own jeans cover his perfect little ass back up to the circle tattoo that spans between shoulder blades. Wants to lick the rays of the sun inked there but controls himself. Instead he clears his throat, try's not to look bewildered and fails by mile.

Apparently this one night stand has bled over into the morning after and Alaric is just as confused as he is pleased. Especially when Enzo turns to look over his shoulder, arches impeccable dark eyebrows, fucking smiles, purrs something thick and British that might be hello.


End file.
